Off the Record: Hey, what took you so long?

As I sit writing this column, I'm feeling neither funny nor thoughtful. Mostly what I am is weary.

I am weary from all the demands that fly at me like relentless winged monkeys. Even though I gave my broom its annual tune-up, I still can't outfly the monkeys. Although, once astride I do scare the bejeebers out of small children, idiot drivers and miscellaneous wildlife — bwahahahahah — so, I guess it ain't all bad.

It's just the constant pressure of everybody wanting what they want NOW. I get it, I really do. Being a full-blown Princess myself (albeit an aging and broom-flying one), I get the I'm-the-most-important-person-I-am-the-priority-so-you-should-get-me-what-i-want-NOW attitude.

This whole crazy instant gratification society we've grown into what with its instant messaging, emailing and texting has led to the popular belief that access and response should be instantaneous has become pandemic.

"I called you!"

"I emailed you!"

"I instant messaged you!"

"I texted you!"

Well goody-goody for you and I am calling, emailing, instant messaging, texting you back.

"Yes, but I called/emailed/messaged/texted you 10 minutes ago! What took you so long to get back to me?"

Well, let's see, I went to the bathroom; I was brushing my teeth; I was blowing my nose; I was up to my elbows in cookie dough; I was talking/emailing/messaging/texting someone else for cryin' out loud. There's only one of me (thank God! Can you imagine two Kyras running lose in the world?!?) and 50 gazillion of you. Jeez, get a grip! Take a number, get in line and wait your turn! But noooooooooo, it's all about instant response now, now, now.

If it were only people who demanded instant response, instant gratification, instant communication, instant results, instant resolution I could probably cope but add the demands of inanimate technology and I'm perilously close to the edge.

Have you ever seen the face of a woman on the edge? It's scary, very scary and worse scary when it's me — a broom-riding, shotgun-owning, lover of fire and all things that go boom Princess with a take-no-prisoners, tolerate-no-idiots attitude and a tongue that's sharper than a sushi knife.

Yes it's the pressure of modern technology demanding attention NOW that makes me want to take a hammer and beat stuff to smithereens.

So here I am surrounded by things that beep, buzz and ding. Holy Hordes of Home Appliances, Bat Woman! It's enough to make me turn to the dark side.

The washing machine and the dryer buzz when a load is done and every five minutes thereafter if I don't immediately take the clothes out.

The microwave beeps when I start it, when it's done and then every couple of minutes thereafter until I open its door. (I remember when the only thing that beeped in my life was the Road Runner and even he went "meep, meep.")

All three appliances have me racing from laundry room to kitchen screaming, "I heard you! I'm coming! Calm down!" as my husband turns up the ball game and the dogs dive for cover under the sofa.

The coffee maker beeps when I turn it on, again when the coffee is brewed and once more when it shuts off. I'm thinking of going back to a French press but then I'd have to boil water and I'm not so sure that the whistling of the tea kettle wouldn't have me beating it with my grandmother's rolling pin.

The truck commences dinging the moment I turn the key in the ignition. It dings for the seatbelt; it dings for the lights; it dings for gas. It is the dingingest vehicle on the planet. Shut up, already! I know I need to lock my seatbelt, turn on/off the lights, get gas, etc. Stop nagging!

And even when I get away from the house there is pressure. Pedestrian crossing signs beep or chirp and light up to know you can cross. OK, that's a safety thing and I get it but É what's with the flashing countdown and red hand? You step off the curb as soon as the light is green and chirping, take two steps and suddenly the sign is flashing a big angry red hand at you and counting down the 20 seconds you have to get to the other corner. But, no pressure.

Seriously? It might as well just shriek, "You have 20 seconds to get your butt to the other side before being turned into road pizza! RUN! RUN! RUN!" Again, all for your safety — no pressure.

I have attempted to de-wire, permanently disable all the beepers, buzzers and dingers but it's either illegal or has resulted in the meltdown of the appliance, rendering them quiet but also useless, an ineffective, inconvenient and expensive solution.

So when you see that woman crossing the street or driving that truck wearing a Princess tiara with pink kitty cat ear muffs, you'll know it's me.